


Coaxing

by Rivalshipping_Archive (rivalshipping)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Johnlock Challenges, M/M, Rape Recovery, homosociallyyours, non-graphic descriptions of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:56:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivalshipping/pseuds/Rivalshipping_Archive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was convinced it wasn't Sherlock's fault. Sherlock was convinced otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coaxing

**Author's Note:**

> For homosociallyyours on Tumblr! Their prompt was **"They'd never been there before..."** and I chose the **M** rating and the **AU** and **angst** genres. I tried to add a little porn as a treat : )
> 
> I hope you like it homosociallyyours!

John Watson was often surprised he was with someone as blindingly brilliant and gorgeous as Sherlock Holmes. He’d come to University for pre-med, getting through with scholarships and loans with no help from his drunk father or absent sister, and not expecting to form any lasting relationships. The arrival of Sherlock in his second year advanced calculus class changed that.

They were both nervous around each other for the first few months, not letting their acquaintanceship deepen to anything more than… well, acquaintanceship. When Sebastian Wilkes, most influential man on campus, set his sights on Sherlock, John defended him more than once from Sebastian’s less-than-pleasant attentions and they built an often rocky but mutual friendship, and not much later a strong romantic relationship.

Sherlock was often confused as to why John wanted him, retreating into his cold, aloof shell whenever they had the smallest disagreement. It took some gentle coaxing for him to come back out again, and some _rougher_ coaxing to keep him out.

Sebastian had pushed Sherlock back into that dark place for the third time in a month. His advances had increased almost frighteningly fast, and the only defense Sherlock had was John. Sherlock closed himself off for most of the day, not responding to John for over an hour until his soft words and softer kisses relaxed him.

Right now, they were beginning the second phase of returning Sherlock to himself. The black haired man allowed himself to be pushed into their bed, disregarding the fact that they were in a flat and had to keep quiet to moan out John’s name. “Are you ready?” John purred, climbing on top of Sherlock to kiss him.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied, running his hands over John’s naked back and gripping his shoulders. “Please, John.”

It was so rare for Sherlock to ask for anything that John was moving before he could think about it, snatching the lube off their bedside table and spreading it onto his fingers. “Relax, ‘Lock.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over Sherlock’s nose, sliding a gentle finger into his entrance and crooking it upward to brush over his prostate.

“I-I am!” Sherlock gasped, spreading his legs to rest around John’s waist. One hand slid into John’s hair, holding him a bit too tight to be shy but just loose enough to stay affectionate, and the other wrapped around John’s cock and stroked him slowly. “Closer, John…”

The blond obeyed, adding another finger to Sherlock’s arsehole and leaning more weight on him to grip both their cocks in the same hand, the smooth motion aided by precum and a slathering of lube. They hadn’t had anal sex—Sherlock was still too nervous to bottom for John and was convinced that he would only hurt him if he topped—but Sherlock was becoming more and more confident with giving blowjobs and their mutual favourite way to make love was like this.

“Closer,” Sherlock repeated in a low moan. “More!” John smirked over him, taking his lower lip gently into his mouth and nipping it to keep him quiet. After a few seconds, Sherlock tensed, his hand tightening in John’s hair as come spurted in ribbons from his cock.

“Jesus,” John groaned into Sherlock’s mouth, thrusting a few more times before shuddering his release.

Sherlock hummed in agreement, relishing the feel of John’s weight pressing him into the mattress, and sighed. “Stay here.” He wrapped his arms around John’s waist as tightly as he could to keep him from rising.

“Of course I will,” John replied softly. “Anything to keep you in bed.” He nuzzled into Sherlock’s ear and stayed there.  
***  
Sherlock packed his schoolbag as quickly as he could, stepping into his shoes at the kitchen table. John was doing the same between brushing his teeth and taking bacon sandwiches out of the oven. They had overslept and couldn’t afford to skip the day’s classes; exams were fast approaching and even Sherlock needed to study before retaining all that information. “I want you to eat this morning,” John murmured, kissing Sherlock behind the ear. “Half a sandwich, alright?”

The chemistry student nodded absently and slung the bag over his shoulder, kissing John’s cheek in return. “Thank you,” he said very quietly. He had the odd half-frown he always got when he wasn’t sure if he was accepted somewhere, the long-held fear of rejection in his eyes, before he dropped his gaze to the floor.

John stopped in his rushing to take Sherlock’s face in both hands, standing on tiptoe to kiss his temple. “I love you, Sherlock. Remember that.”

“I do.” Sherlock still looked doubtful, the expression offset by his small smile. “I love you too.”

It was much easier for him to say than it was a few months ago, but it brought the same beaming smile from his boyfriend as always. John kissed him again and stroked across his cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ll see you tonight. Make sure to eat and have enough water today. When you go to the library, don’t take any more books without checking them out. And,” he pressed a sandwich and a sheet of kitchen roll into Sherlock’s hand, “ _Remember that I love you._ ”

Sherlock’s smile grew a bit and he brushed his nose through John’s short, soft hair. “I will.” John gave him a gentle nudge toward the door and he left feeling a lot better than before.

John stared at the door for a few moments after he left, his smile fading. Sebastian had been less sly and more forceful with Sherlock as of late, catching him whenever he could and attempting to… _exert influence_ on him, flaunting his money and his family’s power. Sherlock was far from enticed but even that didn’t stop him.

The pre-med student did all he could to help Sherlock, but he couldn’t be with him every second of every day. He would have to continue to fight most of his own battles. John was quite aware that most of them were less battle and more attack.

He resolved to repeat last night in its entirety for Sherlock when he got home, to help him re-relax. Hopefully he would still be alright.  
***  
John got home just before ten, surprised that Sherlock wasn’t home before him. He threw his bag onto the floor in the middle of the sitting room and dropped to sit on the couch, pulling a textbook out of his bag. No sooner had he opened it to their current unit that the front door slammed closed. He looked up, setting his text on the coffee table. “Hello,” he said loudly. When there was no reply, he turned around to lean over the back of the sofa, taking an educated guess on who was in their flat. “Sherlock? Are you alright?”

There was a soft sound from the kitchen and Sherlock emerged, face ashen, to stand in the doorway. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

Taking in his disheveled hair and clothes and his reddened lips, John’s first impression was that he’d been shagged, but he wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. “Of course you can.” John patted the cushion beside him and followed Sherlock with his eyes. “What about?”

Sherlock sniffed and stared at his knees. “I’m so sorry,” he began slowly, lifting his hand to rub at his eyes. “I really… I wasn’t thinking…”

John tilted his head and reached over to touch Sherlock’s arm, withdrawing when he flinched away. “Sherlock, please tell me. You’re worrying me.”

The chemistry student took a shaky breath and nodded, still wiping at his eyes. “I cheated on you.”

John’s heart stopped for a painful moment. “What? With who?” He was still trying to be rational—Sherlock had never done anything like this before in their relationship and he was obviously apologetic—but his hands were balled into fists at his sides and trembling.

“Sebastian,” Sherlock whimpered, curling in on himself like he was going to be sick. “We… in the south wing of the library. I just…”

“I thought you hated him,” John murmured, rubbing his temples. “Why would you sleep with him? And why would you tell me afterward?” His voice was getting louder and louder and before he knew it, he was standing over Sherlock, pacing a short line in front of him. “Did you shag him then? Or just get a blowjob in payment for your coursework?”

Sherlock shook his head, silent tears running freely down his thin cheeks. “He found me there after Literature. H-he asked me where you were, and th-then he pushed me against the back wall. I tried to fight him but—” He broke off and sobbed, one arm around his stomach. “He pulled my arm behind my back and it _hurt_ and I just gave up. I’m _so sorry_ , John!”

All the fight left John and the anger tight in his chest turned immediately to guilt. “He forced you?” he breathed, sitting down again.

“No, I let him—”

“Sherlock, listen to me,” John said, holding Sherlock’s hands in his. “You didn’t _let_ him do anything. I’m going to get you to hospital, all right?” Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but another wave of pain had him closing his eyes and gasping. “Stay awake for me, love. Tell me if you feel dizzy, we’re going to catch a cab.”

Sherlock leaned most of his weight on John as they made their way to the street, holding up a hand to hail a taxi and keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around his hips. “’M sorry,” Sherlock said again, taking a few deep breaths against John’s hair.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, sweetheart. He’s… disgusting.” John helped him into the taxi and kept his arm around his shoulders.

“I’m disgusting,” Sherlock said under his breath, gasping against John’s shoulder and shivering from shock. “Please don’t leave me.”

John held him as close as he dared without hurting him, tucking his coat more tightly around him to hopefully keep some of his heat in. “I won’t. I promise.” He paused, then kissed Sherlock’s temple in what thankfully turned out to be a reassuring gesture, murmuring, “I love you.”

Sherlock still had the presence of mind to return the sentiment before falling silent.  
***  
The worst part, to Sherlock, was the sense of failure. His regimen of antibiotics and antivirals was a daily reminder of what happened to him. John’s reluctance to touch him without his initiation was a reminder, as well as the distance John left between them when they slept. The court dates were the worst; John, in a valiant effort not to make Sherlock feel boxed in, didn’t touch Sherlock for weeks while Sebastian was tried and convicted. The piercing stares of his classmates would have been bearable if he had John’s hand in his, but bereft of that he was forced to look away and let them judge him.

A full month after his attack, Sherlock contemplated leaving. John was obviously uncomfortable having him around. It wouldn’t do to have both of them feel unwelcome in their own home. In the heat of the moment, he had asked John not to abandon him, but had he locked him into a place he didn’t want to be? “John,” he called, folding his trembling hands in his lap.

“Sweetheart?” John replied, stepping out of the bedroom and into the hall.

“Can I talk to you?” Sherlock flinched at the flash of pain in John’s eyes, lowering his gaze to his hands. When the cushions of the sofa dipped beside him he bit his lip and held back a sob threatening to break out. “I think it would be best… if I moved out.”

John was silent for a few moments. “Why?”

“We… we’re both uncomfortable. You don’t want me anymore because… because I was raped. I can’t give you what you wanted.” He swallowed hard and twisted his hands tightly.

They sat in uncomfortable quiet for a few tense minutes. A quiet that had never been there before. Even in the early stages, they had an odd sense of comfort together. This was not peaceful or comfortable; it was loud and glaring and Sherlock would do anything to break it.

“Sherlock,” John began softly, “I’m not letting you move out to do what you _think_ is right for me. If you can tell me right here, right now, that you don’t want to live here anymore because _you_ don’t want me anymore, I will pack my things and be gone by tomorrow.”

“But you won’t touch me—”

“I thought you wouldn’t like that. Me being so close to you so soon.” John closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have asked.”

Sherlock shifted a bit closer and took his hand without any action on John's part. “I know I’m dirty now, but… do you still love me?”

John’s upset expression was replaced by confusion, and then anger. “You are not dirty. _He_ is. You are no less perfect than you were, and I would love you even if you weren’t.”

Sherlock held John’s hand a little tighter after that, accepting the comforting kiss on his temple.

**Author's Note:**

> Minor edits and/or a second chapter may be added later! (depending on homosociallyyours's response to this)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading : )


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